


You Should Take It As a Compliment

by HarperRose (Harper_Rose)



Series: The Fourth Floor [3]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Drinking, Getting Together, Love?, M/M, Romance, Tony centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 02:16:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14607039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harper_Rose/pseuds/HarperRose
Summary: Takes place in the "The Fourth Floor" arc.Just two little snapshots into the birth of Tony and Stephen's relationship showing the start





	You Should Take It As a Compliment

**Author's Note:**

> I really liked doing this, just because of how much I enjoy the early days of their relationship. Let me know if ya'll want more stuff like this.

**The Second Meeting:**

 

He might be a little drunk, but it’s fine, it’s cool, he can handle his liquor. He is a pro at schoomzing his way through these things, he’s Tony Stark; he shows up, he shakes hands, and he drinks until he can forget he is looking at Stuffy Business Exec. Number Seven of Boring Company You’ve Probably Heard Of Number Eight.

Stephen Strange is here, talking to some unfamiliar men in ties that Tony has never seen before. Tony has had a few drinks; a few martinis and a few fingers of Scotch. He’s feeling bold, feeling the confidence only alcohol can give you and a feeling he has been lacking as of late. He decides he wants to go over there.

“Tony.”

He feels a thin hand wrap around his wrist and holds him back.

“Pepper.”

She plucks the glass from his hand and sets it aside with a disapproving tilt to her lips. “Geoff Gould is here, have you spoken to him yet?” she asks.

“Who?” Tony’s never heard the name in his life.

Pepper rolls her eyes. “He’s vital to Stark Industries expansion into prosthetics.”

“Oh, the guy with the peg leg!” Tony recalls. Pepper smack him on the arm and he winces. “Ow! What- that’s him isn’t it?”

She sighs. “Yes, Tony, he has a prosthetic leg.”

“What, that wasn’t rude, I’m the one with a prosthetic heart.”

She shakes her head, her strawberry curls swaying. They look soft and Tony kinda want to reach out and touch them. “Never mind,” she says, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’ll talk with him.”

“Why don’t you talk with _Doctor Strange_ if you want to talk medical,” Tony drawls. His words slur just a tad as they roll off his tongue but he’s holding his alcohol just fine. There’s a bitter edge to his tone as well that has Pepper narrowing her eyes at him.

“Stephen Strange?” She peers over his shoulder, seeing the doctor mingling with a handful of socialites. He looks out of place, in his deep blue tie, as if he’s only humouring the men he’s speaking with, as if nothing he is saying means a thing to him. It reminds Pepper of Tony but it just peaking Tony’s curiosity about this man. “What’s he doing here?” she asks.

Tony shrugs. “I dunno, haven’t spoke to him.”

Pepper frowns. “He was at the last event, wasn’t he?”

He shrugs again. He was.

“I wonder why he’s here.”

“Why don’t you ask him if you’re so curious,” Tony prompts. He is sure he’ll give her a beautifully fake answer with his deep provocative voice and his hair all smoothed back all seductive. Pepper is looking at Tony like he has grown a second head and he blinks. He didn’t say all that out loud, had he?

“You did.”

  
Shit. “I need to get more sleep.”

“Yes, you do. I can only take the time to apply your makeup so often, I’m very busy, Mister Stark.”

Tony groans and plucks a flute of champagne off a passing member of the wait staff, earning him a second disapproving frown from Pepper.

“I’ll leave you to talk with Doctor Strange, you’re the one with the crush on him,” Pepper says.

“I am not!”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m going to find Mister Gould, good luck with your crush.” She waves at him prettily as she hurries away.

Tony wets his lips and takes a generous sip of his champagne. It tastes sour and expensive and kind of burns on its way, but he’s too far gone at this point to take up any strong complaints with the quality of his drink. He narrows his eyes at the handsome man that stands in the small circle of wealthy nobodies that Strange has managed to insert himself into. Tony rolls his eyes. What the hell.

“Doctor Strange!”

Blue eyes look up at Tony with just the vaguest shade of surprise. Good, Tony likes keeping people on their toes.

“Mister Stark.”

Tony waves his hand. “Really, we’ve shared a drink, it’s Tony.”

Strange smiles. “I was wondering when I’d get the chance to talk to you.” His voice is deep and Tony can feel the vibrations on his skin. God, how is he this fine? Really, it’s not fair. A brain that big and a face that beautiful. _How ever does he do it?_ Tony takes a long sip from his glass.

Stephen slips away from the circle of people he hadn’t been paying any attention to to begin with and he and Tony move towards the bar. His hands stuffed nonchalantly in his pockets. He’s fucking gorgeous, really, what the hell?

Tony throws back the remainder of his drink. “What’s eating at ya, Strange?”

“The Avengers,” he says with a casual enough shrug. “I had a few questions I wanted to bring up with you.”

Tony wets his lips and averts his eyes. Right. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised. Maybe because Stephen had seemed so… normal, or normal enough in comparison to the more superhero parts of Tony’s life. He should have known he wanted info, there’s always a reason someone would be on both SHIELD‘s and Hydra’s radiuses, a reason someone would make a point of getting Tony’s attention. “Who are you working for?” Tony asks.

“What?”

Tony isn’t falling for his dummy act. He takes Stephen by the arm and pulls him out of the main hall, taking a side door, an emergency exit, that brought them to an employee only service hall. He catches Pepper’s eye on the way. The heavy door shutters closed loudly behind them and the motion sensor lights flicker to life. The hallway is deafeningly quiet in comparison.

Strange pulls himself from Tony’s grasp with an indignant frown.

“I’m going to ask one more time,” Tony patiently says. The Iron Man cuffs are heavy on his wrists and he can hear FRIDAY inquiring of her need through his earpiece. “Who do you work for, and what the hell do you want?”

Strange blinks. “What are you-? I’m not working for anyone.” He shakes his head and god _damn it_ he looks really good in that suit. Tony thinks it Versace. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

Tony’s still stiff as a rod. “About?”

“You’re the easiest of the lot of you to track down, not that there’s much tracking involved. You redefine public figure. I just had to show up to a few Stark events and-”

“What do you want?” Tony asks. He doesn’t like being toyed with.

Stephen laughs. “A job, I guess.”

“What?”

“I-” Strange breaks off and wets his lips, shaking his head. His eyes are very blue. “I thought that we would be better off working together, or that I should reach out to you in the least.”

“What are you talking about?”

Strange rolls his eyes. _“This.”_

Tony thinks he’s hallucinating at first, like maybe somebody slipped something in his drink. It hasn’t happened in years, but hey, you can never predict everything. Even when you’re a super genius. Stephen’s hands begin to glow a soft shade of pink, almost magenta before the smoky colour solidifies into a solid force. It’s almost like a hard light construct, something Tony’s seen in sci-fi flicks and similar to what he’s seen Wanda do. If this had been five years ago, Tony would be certain he was having a bad trip on _something,_ but he has seen a lot freakier sci-fi shit over the past few years.

“Okay,” he says, pointing, “what the fuck is that?”

Strange shrugs. “Magic.”

Tony snorts out of reflex. “Right!”

Strange drops his hands and looks put out. “You met space gods but a man doing magic is where you draw the line?”

“Fair point.” He crosses his arms. God, he hates magic. “So you want on the team, is that it?”

“Maybe in the future, I do have my own responsibilities. I wanted to extend an olive branch.”

“You help us, we help you?”

Strange shrugs. “An alliance, then.”

“Damn. You're making this all business formal. I kinda wanna makeout with your face less now.”

Stephen blinks at him in shock. “Oh. Well, I’ve always preferred to mix my business with pleasure.”

Tony barks a laugh. He sways on his toes and keeps his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He feels vaguely bad for jumping the gun on the guy, but it is a reflex born of experience and necessity. “I’m starting to like you, Strange.” Stephen smiles broadly at the mechanic and Tony shakes his head. Damn it, he is so screwed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**First Meeting Since First Fling**

 

Tony knows this is a mistake from the sight of the first Jaguar and Aston Martin he spots parked out front, he feels a strange disconnect from the wealthy and famous these days. Not that he ever _liked_ them, per say. He hasn’t felt the same appeal that these high profile parties had once held for Tony Stark, hasn’t held his own rave of a party since he was dying and he hasn't managed to gather any enthusiasm for that lifestyle since New York - since Siberia. Since he became the most polarizing man in America (if not the world).

He is growing tired of his face being plastered across the television, being praised a hero one day, being accused a murderer the next. He’s getting whiplash and fatigue. He’s trying to be human; he’s got the equations and logistics figured out, but he’s a little shaky on the… actually doing it bit.

It’s fine. He is fine. He wouldn’t say _okay --_ that would be a bit generous. ‘Perfectly fine’ seems apt, however.

He knows being here at all is a bad idea. This is never going to be anything; it _can’t_ be anything.

He can’t let it.

He moves through the crowd of the dive bar-esc Cali rooftop club fluidly, brushing past masses of bodies. There is a base thumping and he can feel the vibration through his feet and in the metal casing of the reactor that sits heavy and hot in his chest. He wears a heavy jacket to cover the glow, and dark sunglasses to cover his eyes.

He spots Stephen standing at the bar, a drink in hand and his elbows on the counter as he speaks with the bartender. She wipes of the countertop and laughs at something the man says to her. The younger man, doctor, is dressed plainly in dark jeans and tennis shoes, but he looks no less gorgeous now than he had at the gala where they’d met.

“Hey, baby, buy you a drink?” he asks as Tony comes up beside him. He’s smirking like a smartass and Tony kind of adores him for it. It’s a look that he would blast off of Justin Hammer’s or Tiberius Stone’s face with a repulsor but thoroughly enjoys seeing on Stephen.

“Smooth,” Tony remarks. “Can’t say I’ve ever had anyone ask before,” he says. The turning of tables is an enjoyable experience. No wonder he sweet talked so many women (and men) into his bed, it’s far too easy to go along with. “A Scotch sounds great.” He’s trying to drink less, but what the hell?

“One Scotch then.”

The bartender nods and pours the drink, sliding it down the bar to Tony.

“Why are you wearing sunglasses?” Stephen asks over the music. They’re outside, but the sun has long since set over the coast and the sky is dotted with a star here and there that breaks through. They’re far enough outside LA that the night sky is visible.

“I’m Tony Stark, I’m keeping a low profile.”

Stephen snorts. “Right, well, considering I just saw Ben Affleck and Jennifer Aniston over that way,” he says, gesturing somewhere behind him, “I’d say you’re alright.”

“Did you really? He owes me four grand. Hey-!” He blinks out of shock as Stephen reaches out and plucks the glasses from Tony’s face, folding them and placing them in Tony’s own pocket.

“You have a black eye,” he accuses.

“Incident in the lab. It happens. I’m having problems with a new prehensile suit, the trajectory of the gauntlet is shaky. Missed its target.” He waves his fingers. “Nanochips embedded under the skin. It’s meant to assemble around me, but FRIDAY and I are still working on the fine details. Aim, mainly.”

“You were sucker punched by your own suit?” Stephen asks flatly.

“It sounds completely insane when you put it that way.”

Stephen laughs. “I think it might sound completely insane no matter what way you put it, but if you need help reworking that thesis I’d be glad to help. Or, you know, bandaging whatever body part you break in that workshop of yours.”

Tony downs his Scotch around a wide smile. Stephen’s laugh is intoxicating. He wets his lips. He can still taste Stephen if he thinks about. He’s been thinking about it a lot lately. They’ve only slept together once several weeks ago and Tony hasn’t been able to shake him since. It’s slightly disconcerting, Tony has never been this enamored with someone he has had a fling with. He’s never been this enamored full stop. Not since, well, the Captain.

Jesus Christ, why is this man making him feel like a fucking middle schooler? It’s humiliating.

“I could use an on-call doctor,” Tony says. “Especially since Banner vamoosed himself to Timbuktu.”

“Tony Stark doesn’t have the tech to track a man?’

“Oh, no, I know where he is. He’s literally in Timbuktu. He went to Mali.”

“Really?”

Tony shrugs. “I dunno.” He takes a sip of his drink. “Seems like somewhere he’d run off to. That’s kinda how he operates.”

“You miss him.” It’s not a question, just an observation.

“Of course I do,” Tony says. “He’s one of two people who’ve been able to keep up a conversation with me.”

“Who’s the second?”

“You.”

Stephen practically preens under the compliment, taking a sip of his own glass.

“My car is out front,” Tony tells him, fishing a hundred out of his wallet and leaving it on the bar. “C’mon. Allow me to show you Malibu.”

Stephen looks at him curiously, but he follows.

Tony ducks into the backseat of the car, running his hands through his hair and ruffling it, as Stephen climbs in beside him. The man smiles at him brilliantly and his stomach does a little fluttering. Shit, not good. Retreat, Tony. Keep it together.

“Where to, Boss?” Happy asks.

“Hello, Happy.”

“Doctor.”

“Take ‘er home, Hap.”

“What are we doing?” Stephen asks.

“I want to show you something.” Tony is completely clueless as to how come, but he wants to show Stephen all of it. The whole shebang. He’s curious; he wonders how Stephen will handle it - handle him. _The real Tony Stark._ He doesn’t know why he trusts Stephen, but, for some inexplicable reason, he does. _This can’t be something._ “You’re a doctor.”

“I was.”

“You were a brilliant one- best surgeon in the northern hemisphere. You’re a man of science, ignoring your magic tricks,” Tony says. “So, Doctor, you wanna see some science?”

He watches Stephen’s whole face light up. “Absolutely.”

They spend a few hours in the lap, tinkering with unfinished experiments and Tony bounces some ideas off of him. He’s not an engineer, but he’s bright and listens with rapt attention to every word Tony says. The surgeon learns quickly when Tony explains some aspect of nuclear biomechanics, and, for once, Tony finds he doesn’t mind explaining.

Tony shows him the suit. He has the small voice in the back of his head telling him to hide it: _lock it up, keep it out of sight, he’ll just try to commandeer it, he’s a spy, he’s a traitor, he’s after your tech._ Tony shakes those thoughts.

He sufficiently razzle dazzles Stephen with the glitz and glam that is his Malibu garage; his proper garage. He’s always favoured his Malibu place over the others. It’s the one place he considers home over all others. It feels peculiarly intimate, having Stephen here.

Tony brings two glasses out to Stephen who sits on the piano bench, tapping meaninglessly at the keys.

“Never pegged you for a wine guy.”

“Pepper left it. You play?” Tony asks, gesturing towards the piano.

“Yeah. Not since I was a kid, but I remember my lessons.”

“A cursed mind.”

Stephen laughs. “It has its uses.” He takes a sip of his whiskey. “Do you live here alone?”

The question surprises Tony, it’s a bluntness he expects from himself, not others. “Yup. Pepper’s in New York most days, ever since SI reopened a major branch in the city. She’s been making sure everything is running smoothly. She is a far better CEO than I ever was. I don’t know what I would do without her.”

Stephen taps out a small tune on the piano.

“Why do you even like me?” he asks bluntly, in expected Tony Stark fashion. “I’ve been used before by people who just want to get close to Tony Stark just to say that they did. I didn’t mind, before, but I’m not that Tony Stark anymore. I’m not-” He shakes his head. “I’m not nearly that exciting anymore.”

“I would like the opportunity to decide that for myself.”

Tony snorts. “My reputation-”

“Is terrible,” Stephen interrupts. “I know. I have cable.”

Tony shakes his head. “It’s never been this bad,” he says. He is dragged through the dirt every day. They call him a fear monger, Merchant of Death is making another round. He has had mothers tell him he is responsible for their son’s deaths. He can’t say he’s ever been called a child murderer before.

He doesn’t sleep; he doesn't know how anymore.

“Tony,” Stephen says patiently. “You don’t need to worry about me hanging off your coattail in a bid for spotlight. I’m too old for that kind of shit. I’m trying to be less of an asshole.”

“You and me both.”

Stephen sets his drink on the coffee table, gazing at the piano keys. “FRIDAY, play something not obnoxious.”

“Of course.” Jazz begins to flow through the surround sound and Stephen smiles warmly at the mechanic.

“Stephen-”

 _“Tony,”_ he chides good naturedly.

The world stops for Tony just like that; the sound of his name alone. Stephen offers him his hand and Tony takes it, letting him be pulled close. “I’m a mess,” Tony tells him.

“That’s alright.”

“This can’t become something.”

“It can be whatever you want it to be.” They begin to sway in time with the music.

“People will talk.”

“Since when has that swayed you?”

He swallows. Since he has begun to question every action he makes. Every misstep of his feels like a crime, something that costs people their lives. Uncertainty and anxiety are becoming old hats for Tony Stark. Tony thought when he had first met Stephen Strange, that he only wanted a friend. Tony met Stephen at a very odd point in his life. Tony isn't the man he once was. He’s a mess and he’s falling apart and he has never felt this strung out and abused. Hell, not even when he had been _dying._ Tony doesn’t want Stephen Strange like he has ever wanted any friend. He wants Stephen to take him apart and put him back together.

“They’ll rope you into my mess,” Tony tells him. He is warning Stephen.

Anything here on after is in Stephen’s hands. He’s a big boy, capable of making his own decisions. Tony cannot be held solely responsible. Just the thought have someone to split the responsibility feels like a weight is being lifted.

Stephen plants a kiss on Tony’s brow. “That’s okay.”

Tony turns his head and kisses Stephen on the lips, reveling in the taste of him on his tongue. “This is a bad idea.”

“Most of my ideas are.”

**Author's Note:**

> thoughts? feelings?


End file.
